


Angels and Accidents

by SnakesandTea



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Whump (Good Omens), Caring Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Desperate Aziraphale (Good Omens), Desperate Crowley (Good Omens), Desperation, M/M, Oblivious Crowley (Good Omens), Omorashi, Protective Crowley, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 19:24:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20840753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnakesandTea/pseuds/SnakesandTea
Summary: Aziraphale is desperate in the passenger seat of the Bentley; Crowley isn't paying him much attention...yet.





	Angels and Accidents

Crowley swerved to avoid hitting a bus.

“I wish you’d be more careful. I so dislike the way you drive,” Aziraphale remarked, trying to ignore the urine sloshing in his bladder.

The demon grumbled something noncommittal as he floored his Bentley through a yellow light. 

Aziraphale crossed his legs and looked out the window at headlights zooming past. He’d always found the lights humans created to be fascinatingly beautiful – especially the way they danced on water. Unfortunately, they weren’t captivating his attention now, as his focus kept finding its way back to the growing pain in his abdomen. He knew it was unlikely Crowley would stop until they needed petrol (he'd badgered the demon to _actually _fill the tank every-so-often), and by his calculations, they had at least half a tank.

Aziraphale swallowed a surprised squeak as a spurt of warmth shot into his underwear. He pressed his hands between his thighs, knowing he was losing the battle. Fighting to keep his voice even, the angel asked, “could you pull over?”

“Hm?” Crowley mumbled, not really listening. Cursing himself for losing the right child, he turned onto an old dirt road. Dammit, he didn’t want to be the cause of Earth’s demise. But he would be -- unless there was still time to find the Anti-Christ and, possibly, reason with him. How does one reason with an eleven-year-old?

“Please pull over, Crowley. I don’t want to disgrace myself in your car. I know how much you love the Bentley.”

That caught his attention. “What?”

Another jet of piss dampened his boxers. Tightening his grip around his penis, Aziraphale swallowed hard. “I’m going to have an accident. Please, pull over.”

Crowley finally faced his passenger. It was truly a sight to behold: Aziraphale hunched over, cheeks flushed with his hands shoved between shaking legs. Part of him felt bad for the angel, seeing him in such a state. Then again, seeing a heavenly being in such a _human_ situation was deliciously exciting; he was a demon, after all. His cock twitched at the thought of watching Aziraphale wet his trousers. He allowed himself a moment to imagine the sight – piss darkening the beige dress pants, pouring down his legs in a violent torrent of orgasmic relief, Aziraphale panting and embarrassed as he flooded his clothes… Stifling a sigh, he resigned himself to the angel’s request and pulled over.

Aziraphale didn’t move; he couldn’t. His muscles were in such tight knots, he felt he may vomit. He lost control for a few more seconds, clasping his thighs tightly together as urine leaked between his fingers. Surveying the damage, he gasped. A softball-sized wet spot had spread across the crotch of his trousers.

“If you pi—” the empty threat died in his throat when he noticed the tears slipping down Aziraphale’s face. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t think I can move.”

Crowley walked around to the passenger side of the Bentley. Opening the door, he saw the stain slowly growing around the angel’s fingers. Ignoring his every instinct to pull Aziraphale’s hands away and startle him into releasing, he crouched beside him. “Just do it here. It’s fine.” He withered slightly under Aziraphale’s icy glare. “You can just miracle it away as soon as you’re done. You know I’m not as picky as you about how things are cleaned.”

“I’m not relieving myself in your car.”

The phrase alone would have been enough to give him a raging boner, but Aziraphale needed a friend, not a horny demon. “If you hold yourself with one hand and put the other around my neck, I could pull you out.”

Aziraphale blushed an even deeper shade of red as he shakily slid one of his hands from his crotch. Cautiously, he placed his arm around the demon’s neck as Crowley locked his arms under Aziraphale’s and lifted him to his feet. He stumbled, pitching forward, but Crowley caught him before he fell.

The motion was too much for the angel’s bladder. His knees nearly gave out as his muscles seized up before releasing. Urine sputtered from his cock, soaking through his pants in seconds. Rivulets of piss wound their way down his legs before pattering on the packed dirt beneath him. His bladder voiding on its own accord was pure bliss – nearly as good as an orgasm. Taking his hand away from the torrent emanating from his crotch, Aziraphale moaned his relief.

Holding his angel tightly, Crowley felt the undeniable warmth of Aziraphale’s stream against his thigh. Doubting Aziraphale would even consider this a tiny bit arousing, he forced himself to think about anything but his angel wetting forcefully against his leg. Anything but his illicit enjoyment of Aziraphale’s moan. Sure, other demons specialized in fetishes – but he wasn’t one to bring them into business ventures. He preferred to keep his kinks personal – between consenting parties. Aziraphale shuddered against him, whether from relief or humiliation, he was unsure. “You’re okay,” he murmured, rubbing his back gently.

The angel allowed himself to lean into Crowley’s embrace. He shook with another wave of relief, the bliss running rampant through his body. Hot urine still cascading down his legs as his bladder emptied into his trousers. Slowly, his torrent reduced to a trickle. As his stream dwindled, the euphoria melted away. Shame hit him square in the chest as the last few dribbles leaked out. “Crowley,” he whimpered into the demon’s chest. “I believe I’ve wet myself.”

“And you’ve survived,” He said softly, hugging the angel even more tightly. Another spurt of warmth bloomed against his thigh. He shivered. The soft drops of Aziraphale’s last emission plinked in the puddle at their feet.

Before Crowley was able to get a good look at his soiled angel, the cooling wetness vanished from his leg. He knew the angel had miracled the mess away.

Aziraphale leaned against the Bentley, his cheeks still burning bright red in the moonlight. “Thank you,” he began, staring at the dry dirt where his puddle had been. “I’m sorry. I…”

“It happens,” Crowley brushed it off.

“It doesn’t just ‘happen’” Aziraphale argued, tears brimming in his eyes. “I was too headstrong to visit the lavatory, or admit I needed you to stop when I was still in control of my faculties—”

“I’m stopping you right there. Angel, these things happen. True, less so after childhood. But they are called ‘accidents’ for a reason.” He lowered his voice, “I’ve been known to lose control after a few too many bottles of wine. Even flooded an elevator once,” he said with a wink.

Aziraphale carefully weighed the demon’s words. Indeed, this hadn’t been his first accident – but it was the first in a long, long time; and certainly the first in front of Crowley. He noted that the demon seemed to be taking his infraction well. Interesting. Aziraphale smiled hesitantly. “You’ve really wet yourself in an elevator?”

“Yes.” His cock twitched at the memory, already starting to get hard.

Emboldened by the new spark in the demon’s eyes, he asked, “And you weren’t able to slither away?”

“There were humans present.”

“Oh! An audience, how exciting!” He flushed, nervously giggling. The idea of _Crowley_ as desperate as he was sent a plethora of naughty thoughts through him.

“Mmhmm,” Crowley mused, acutely aware of the shift in his angel’s demeanor.

Aziraphale’s face burned, but his curiosity won. “Might I inquire as to what occurred?” His heart fluttered in his chest as the question left his lips. He could hardly hear the demon’s next words.

“I’d been attending a gala for one of those New York senators – no one important, I never learned his name. Anyway, the party was on the top floor of a high-rise, but the washrooms were a floor down. I’d been chatting with a young woman when she excused herself to powder her nose. Much to her delight, I said I would escort her.” He paused, making sure his angel was still with him.

Aziraphale’s cheeks were flushed with arousal and his blue eyes bright with anticipation. He nodded for his demon to go on.

“We’d gotten in the elevator with another couple – both looked absolutely dashing in their suits,” he recalled. “The doors closed and the car started moving; we went about half a floor down before the cab shook and stopped. I nearly wet myself.”

He practically choked at the demon’s admission. Aziraphale crossed his legs as he felt his erection growing, equally appalled and fascinated by his natural response to Crowley’s story.

The demon smirked, knowing full well what Aziraphale was attempting to conceal. “We had been trapped for a good hour and I had already been _so _on edge. The other couple had taken advantage of our predicament to steal a few kisses. Meanwhile, my date was practically dancing in the corner, clutching herself as though it was going to make any difference. I wasn’t much better off. I pressed my legs together in a vain attempt to preserve some dignity, but at that moment, my date lost control. The sound was enough to put me over the edge and I began flooding my suit.”

A flash of jealousy crossed his eyes as he pictured the ritzy crowd watching Crowley lose control: getting to see his black pants turn a shade darker as his urine saturated the material, pattering on the carpet as his demon moaned in ecstasy.

Crowley could practically smell the envy radiating from him. “Darling, are you jealous?”

“No!” He replied, far too loudly. “No,” he repeated, more quietly.

“Tsk, tsk. Not very Good to be jealous, is it?” Crowley teased.

“Not very Bad to…” he fumbled, “to… to comfort a distressed angel!”

Crowley raised an eyebrow, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Well,” Aziraphale cleared his throat, “I suppose we’d better be off.” As interested as he was to learn more of Crowley’s escapades, there was an Anti-Christ to find.

The demon reluctantly agreed, still wanting to delve deeper into Aziraphale’s curiosity. But he was right, they needed to find that kid.

Taking a final look at that dry patch of dirt, Aziraphale closed his door. Though he wouldn’t admit it aloud anytime soon, the relief of soaking his pants was nearly unparalleled – and he thought he might just want to do it again. Perhaps even in front of his demon.


End file.
